


Happy Birthday, Harry! (& Neville)

by WalkingThePlank



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M, Student/Teacher, emo harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 02:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20074729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkingThePlank/pseuds/WalkingThePlank
Summary: AU. Severus Snape flirts with a handsome man in a pub. That man is a musician who plays hauntingly emotional songs. Severus kisses that talented man.The next day is Severus Snape's first day as a professor at Hogwarts.And guess who is a seventh year in his potions class? That same musician.Severus is totally and utterly f*cked, isn't he? Especially when Draco Malfoy warns Severus off of Harry.Severus tries to deny his longing, but fails.Liberal use of the word "F*ck."A little ficlet for Harry and Neville's birthday (a day late.)





	Happy Birthday, Harry! (& Neville)

“Sweet little thing,” Severus purred seductively into the young man’s ear. The man peered up at him from the corner of his eye, brushed a strand of messy hair behind his ear, and grinned. The delectable man currently sat next to him in the pub had been coyly flirting with him for over an hour now, buying Severus drink after drink.

The dark-haired man pushed a glass of vodka towards Severus. “Enjoy, on me.” He stood to leave, but as his second foot hit the ground, sliding his arse off the stool, Severus took decisive action, by placing his hand on the man’s hip. “Don’t walk away.”

The man shot him a questioning look and Severus added a desperate, “Please.”

“I have one more set,” he said and nodded his head towards the stage. “You can wait for me, if ya want,” the man told him, nonchalantly.

Severus waited for no one. He was not a patient man. Severus shrugged dismissively. The younger man pulled his leather jacket back on and walked up to the dark stage, only lit by dim purple bulbs.

Severus couldn’t deny the man was handsome, beautiful, even. His shaggy, dark hair fell at the sides of his face, framing his unnaturally green eyes. The way his clothes clung to his body, promised a muscular sight, if one was lucky enough to take the clothes off of him.

Severus downed the vodka. The man was beautiful, oh yes, but not enough so to make Severus wait. Severus laid a couple of galleons on the bar, about to leave, when the young man hit the strings of the guitar sending a sad thrum throughout the small, dark pub. Something in that sound forced Severus back onto his seat. The blonde barkeep walked up onto the stage and took the microphone, even as the man continued to stroke the guitar strings.

“Please welcome back to our stage,” the woman announced, “Harry and the Heartaches.”

The crowd of about twenty or so people applauded, yelled out, and wolf-whistled. Harry continued to play and the barkeeper stepped off of the stage. Several notes in, the bass player began to strum, and the drummer began to bang out a slow, even rhythm. Harry, as Severus now knew him, was so captivating Severus could barely tear his eyes from him to even notice the other two young men in the band.

The sad song filled the establishment, taking over the mood and transforming it. It was impressive, the way Harry could take a room of people, and bend them to his will.

Then he opened his mouth to sing. His voice clung to Severus’s heart and made it feel heavy with the weight of his words.

_Love me_

_Oh, can’t you just love me?_

_Don’t use me, abuse me_

_I plead with you, and you refuse me._

_That look in your eye tells me the game will begin_

_And it burns me_

_Oh, it burns me like a cigarette against my skin_

Severus felt his lips part, his jaw becoming slack in his amazement. Severus had never been one for music or poetry but here he was, utterly captivated. He felt like he was falling in love, which he knew was a ridiculous notion. He distantly thought that it was likely every other patron felt the same way in that moment.

Harry and his band performed several more songs, with each one more emotional and heartbreaking than the last. Severus felt like he knew this young man intimately. Harry’s words painted a picture of his heart as a blackhole: immense, dark, desperate.

The performance ended, and the room applauded but quickly fell quiet again. The room hummed with quiet chatter and glasses clinking.

Harry set his guitar down on the stage, his band mates began to put their instruments away.

“You waited for me,” Harry said and he took his seat by Severus once more.

“Did you write those lyrics?”

“Mm,” Harry nodded his head and took a glass of water from the barkeeper.

“Great job tonight, Harry,” she told him, then handed him a few galleons. “Soon you’ll be filling my pub with people and I’ll be able to pay ya triple that.”

“Cheers,” Harry told her, then turned back to Severus.

“That was…” Severus could think of any number of adjectives to describe the beauty of the man’s performance, but his mouth failed him, so he just let the words trail off.

“Thanks,” he said, understanding. He took another sip of his water. “I have to go soon.”

The alcohol began to pulse in his veins. With the burning bravery causing his heart to pound with fervor, Severus asked, “Would a kiss make you stay?”

Harry smiled shyly. “It might… for a bit.”

Severus leaned forward, wrapping his long fingers across the base of Harry’s neck. He touched his lips to the other man’s gently, but quickly became enraptured in his mouth. A push and pull of tongues, the gentle scraping of teeth.

Severus pulled back just enough to say against those lips, “Come home with me.”

“Can’t. Sorry.”

And Harry was disappearing out the door, and onto the streets of Hogsmeade.

“Welcome back,” Albus greeted him, his eyes twinkling in the damnable way they had even when Severus himself had been his student.

Severus nodded to him and took his seat at the staff table at the front of The Great Hall. The room hadn’t changed a bit in the twenty years since Severus had last eaten here. Although, it did seem just a bit smaller from the staff table than it had at the Slytherin table.

The students would be filing in soon, fresh off the Hogwarts Express and the sorting ceremony would commence.

“Williams, Alina!” Minerva called out.

Within moments the sorting hat announced, “Hufflepuff!”

Albus stood once more for final announcements before dinner. He gave the typical speech: stay out of the Forbidden Forest, be on best behavior, house cup…

“… and please welcome our new potions professor, Severus Snape!”

Severus scanned his eyes slowly over the students. There was polite applause. The door at the back of the Great Hall opened slowly, catching Severus’s eye. A head full of wavy black hair disappeared into the corridor.

Severus stood behind his desk. He shuffled around papers, looking for his lesson plan for the seventh year Gryffindor/Slytherin class.

He heard the students come in and begin to take their places.

“I have high expectations for you as seventh years,” Severus began. He looked up to appraise the class. Immediately, a very familiar young man, with round glasses and wavy, black hair caught his attention.

_FUCK._

A very miserable looking Gryffindor student met Severus’s eyes.

Severus cleared his throat. “I will not coddle you. I expect you to produce praise-worthy potions. I expect you to write insightful essays. I expect you to be here early. Am I understood?”

There were quiet “Yes, sirs” spoken from the group of teenagers before him.

_Teenagers._

Severus spent the next hour avoiding so much as looking in the direction of one Harry Potter.

He leaned over the shoulder of a Slytherin student with platinum blond hair and peered down at his potion.

“Perfectly acceptable, Mr-?”

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” The Slytherin turned his head to look at Severus. Draco narrowed his eyes. Severus thought he looked quite familiar, but couldn’t quite place him in his memories.

He dismissed the class, already dreading the next time he would have to stand before Harry.

If anyone found out what had happened the night before in that pub, Severus’s teaching career would be over before it began.

As soon as Severus poured himself a glass of vodka, intending to relax after his _very_ long first day teaching, a knock came on the door to his rooms. Severus rolled his eyes in irritation.

He pulled the door open violently to reveal Draco Malfoy.

“Mr Malfoy to what do I owe the-“

“You were snogging Harry last night in the pub.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m the drummer. I saw you.”

_FUCK._

“What do you want?” Severus hissed. “To be exempt from homework? An automatic 100% in the class?”

“That sounds lovely, but no. I want you to leave Harry the fuck alone.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Harry has been through enough shit in his life. The last thing he needs is some… some _predator _taking advantage of him.”

“A predator? I am no such thing. I had no idea who he was last night. Now that I am aware, he shall be nothing more than a student.”

“Let it stay that way, and my lips will remain sealed.”

It did stay that way. Severus nor Harry spoke a word to the other. After several weeks, the awkward glances and knowing looks dissipated as if nothing had ever happened.

Severus occasionally caught Draco pining after Harry, staring after him in the Great Hall or in class. Harry seemed oblivious.

Harry stayed after class one Friday evening. Severus’s heart was in his throat as the student approached his desk. His palms immediately began to perspire.

“Could I have an extra day for the essay?”

“Why do you need an extension?”

“I have a performance this weekend.”

“That’s only a few hours. The essay should be no problem.”

“I have to rehearse and I’m always so exhausted after a show. I’m only asking for one extra day.”

“No.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

Severus lifted his wand and flicked it towards the door, closing it and casting a silencing charm.

“If you think I should give you preferential treatment because I kissed you-“

“- that’s not at all what I am doing. I was simply asking the same of what I’d ask any other professor.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Mr Potter.”

“Will you come?”

Severus looked Harry over. His robes were unkempt, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He wasn’t very short, but the meek way he carried himself made him seem smaller somehow. At this distance, Severus determined it wasn’t the odd lighting of the pub that made Harry’s eyes seem so green, they were always that colour.

“To my show,” Harry clarified after Severus was silent for some time.

“That would be inappropriate.”

“I don’t believe so. It would be a professor supporting a student. Hardly different from cheering for me if I played quidditch.”

“I’d never cheer for a Gryffindor.”

“You said you liked my music.”

“I do.”

Harry placed a hand over Severus’s. “Think about it. I’d like to see you there again.”

The next evening came all too quickly. Severus, in fact, _did_ want to see Harry perform again. Draco’s threats, however, replayed in his mind. Showing up would be tantamount to professional suicide.

Severus sat before the fireplace in his sitting room, staring down the glass of vodka in his hand.

_Fuck it. I can’t allow a seventeen-year-old to blackmail me. _

Severus walked into the pub. The music surrounded him as soon as he stepped in the door.

Harry was on stage, his hands running effortlessly over the guitar strings. His eyes were closed and faced towards the dim stage lights as he sang one his many sad melodies.

The crowd was significantly smaller than it had been at the last show. It was December now, and the snow fell heavily outside, likely discouraging many people from attending.

The same blonde barkeeper placed a vodka on the rocks in front of Severus, as he took his usual spot at the bar. The song ended just as Severus returned his eyes to Harry.

As if sensing him, Harry opened his eyes and looked at him. A small smile played on Harry’s lips. Harry’s chest expanded as he took a deep breath, still meeting Severus’s gaze.

The band began the next song on their set.

The song was softer in nature. It was one Severus had yet to hear.

_My love, I see through your disguise_

_My love, can you even see me through your black eyes?_

_I am right before you, hoping you’ll see me_

_My heart is on my sleeve, and it’s bleeding_

_You have your doubts, ‘cause you’re a bit older_

_But I still have hope, ‘cause I’m a bit bolder_

Harry looked at Severus as he sang the words.

_FUCK._

He could not do this. _He could not do this._

He dared a look at Draco, behind his drumset. His piercing blue eyes glared at Severus without reservation. He beat his drums, as if wishing it were Severus’s face. He slammed his foot down onto the bass pedal harder than was necessary.

Severus downed the last of the vodka, laid a galleon on the bar, and walked out.

Harry’s essay was turned in on time.

Class continued for the next two weeks as it had the entire year thus far.

There was the occasional glare from Draco Malfoy, but he was usually too busy staring at Harry with a sickening lovesick smile.

Severus rather wanted to smack that smile off of his face.

Severus thought he was possibly more excited for the Christmas break than his students were.

That is, until the first dinner after most of the students had left.

Severus looked down at the one table now left in the Great Hall. About a dozen students of all years and houses sat together, chatting animatedly while eating.

Harry Potter was among them, but rather than excited for the holiday, he seemed despondent, staring down his plate of dinner that he pushed around with a fork absentmindedly.

Severus ate quickly.

Just short of arriving to his rooms, a familiar voice called out his name.

“Severus! Wait! _Please_.”

Against his better judgement, Severus stopped. He closed his eyes and silently cursed his lack of self-control wherever Harry Potter was concerned.

“Hey,” Harry whispered.

Severus’s last ounce of resolved disappeared in an instant and he had Harry against the cold stone wall of the dark corridor, just feet from the door to his rooms.

His mouth was on Harry’s neck. Harry was moaning. Harry’s hands ran over Severus’s body, around his hips, up his back, over his shoulders, along his neck, and tangling in his hair.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned.

“My thoughts exactly,” Severus whispered against Harry’s jaw, panting.

Harry turned his head and captured Severus’s lips.

Severus returned his mouth to Harry’s jawline.

“Did you like my new song?” Harry asked as he grabbed at Severus with more desperation.

Severus nodded against Harry’s neck, trying to get beneath the collar of his robes.

“The lengths a man must go to, to get your attention,” Harry mused. Severus removed himself and took a long step backwards.

“You’re not a man. You’re a _schoolboy. _This… this is a mistake.”

“I’m a _man_. I’ve been through more shit than any of my peers, making me far more mature than any of them.”

“You’re seventeen.”

“Only for seven more months.”

“Good night, Mr Potter.”

Severus left Harry standing there alone, with only the flickering candles on the wall for company.

Severus took his meals in his rooms for the next several days.

A white owl came to Severus Christmas morning as he ate his breakfast, staring into the fire, listening to it crackle contentedly.

The owl delivered a simple letter.

_Seven months._

_Happy Christmas._

By early afternoon, Severus’s own rooms began to feel like a prison.

A walk to clear his mind was in order.

The cold December air burned his skin and his lungs as he walked through the courtyard back to the castle.

Severus heard Harry before he saw him. He turned the corner back towards the entrance to the Great Hall and found Harry playing his guitar for the younger students sat at his feet. He played the song he wrote for Severus.

Severus thought perhaps his rooms weren’t his prison, his own mind was the prison.

He was a prisoner to the overwhelming desire to reach out and touch him again.

After the new year, the rest of the students returned.

And with them, Draco Malfoy, who appeared at Severus’s door once more.

“I told you to leave him alone.”

“Only because you want him for your own.”

Draco’s face fell, looking panicked.

“If you love him, tell him. Otherwise, leave me out of it. I don’t want him.”

“Then why come to the show?”

“He asked me.”

“He wrote that song about you.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No. It’s just obvious.”

“Has he written a song for you?”

“Fuck you.”

Harry seemed more depressed each new day that Severus laid his eyes on him.

Severus caught Harry eyeing him the way Draco eyed Harry, only with far more sadness.

Severus ignored the looks.

He ignored Harry.

_FUCK._

A knock.

Draco.

Of course.

“You broke his fucking heart.”

Severus closed the door.

_FUCK._

Severus made his nightly rounds.

He looked wildly around the empty corridor. He could have sworn he heard someone else’s footsteps.

And then he heard someone else’s breathing.

“Show yourself,” he demanded.

A bodiless Harry Potter grinned at him shyly.

“Hi.”

“Stalking me?”

“No!”

“Why are you down here?”

“Seeing Draco, actually. I’ll be on my way back to bed.”

“You two finally dating?”

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

Severus snapped his mouth closed.

Harry let the invisibility cloak fall to the floor.

Severus wasn’t sure who initiated, but Harry’s mouth was on his.

“I love you,” Harry whispered.

“_Fuck,_” Severus responded, breathless.

“Tell me to stop,” Harry pleaded, an inhumane amount of desperation in his eyes.

“Six months,” Severus responded, and rushed away.

Draco glared at him in class.

Harry couldn’t look at him.

“Draco is in love with me.”

“I know.”

“How’d you know?”

Severus looked up from the paper he was grading. Harry sat at his usual classroom table.

They’d taken to working silently together in the evenings, Harry studying for his NEWTs, Severus grading papers.

“How he looks at you.”

“Is it the same way I look at _you_?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.”

Sometimes Harry would find Severus on his nightly rounds.

Severus quit taking points.

Sometimes they would kiss.

Like two magnets snapping together. Neither initiated. It just happened. It was beyond anyone’s control.

Severus was out of control.

_FUCK._

He’d lay awake at night, staring into the darkness.

His mind was spiraling. His heart was weaker than it’d ever been before.

Four more months. But who was counting?

He hadn’t seen Harry outside of class in a week.

He, Draco, and Neville (the bassist, Severus had finally realized) had been in overdrive practicing the songs they’d be performing live for the WWN that weekend.

Saturday night, at precisely 2100, Severus turned on the wizard radio he’d borrowed from Albus. He lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling as he heard Harry perform.

“Harry and the Heartaches has become quite popular,” the radio host stated.

Harry chuckled. “It’s what we’ve been told.”

“You have quite a following but what do you say to the fans who say your new music just isn’t the same?”

“Well, it isn’t,” he heard Neville say. “We’ve branched out, haven’t we? It’s a bit less of the sad acoustic stuff we’re known for.”

“Why is that?” The host asked.

“I’m not sad anymore,” Harry stated. “I could write sad songs that spoke to the broken parts in all of us. I just don’t relate to that anymore, so it’s a bit more difficult to write those same songs in a genuine way.”

“You’re saying you aren’t broken hearted anymore?”

“All of us have some degree of a broken heart at all times is what I believe. Right now, I’m just not in tune with that side of myself.”

The host laughed kindly. “Are you saying you’re in love?” He teased.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” Harry said matter-of-factly.

Severus’s heart pounded.

He switched off the radio.

Harry got O’s across the board on his NEWTs.

He performed with his band every weekend.

It seemed every witch and wizard began to talk about Harry and the Heartaches.

They produced a record.

It was an instantaneous success.

Severus heard his song, _Disguise_, every time he entered a pub.

He hadn’t heard from Harry since he’d left Hogwarts.

The same white owl came to Severus the last week of July.

_We are putting on a concert tonight._

_Come._

Severus did. He stood at the back. It was a massive crowd, gathered around the band as they played right in the town square. The sun had long gone down.

Only a few street lights illuminated the trio as they performed their sad melodies and a couple of their slightly happier ones.

Harry sang Disguise. Severus could see Harry searching the crowd for Severus as he sang, but it was too dark, and there were too many people.

Most of the crowd knew every single word to the song and they sang loudly and off-key with Harry.

A few couples slow danced.

The concert was the longest one Severus had seen Harry perform.

The audience clung to every lyric, not a single person leaving early, despite the time.

The clock in the town square rang out.

Harry stopped mid-song.

“It’s midnight,” Harry announced. “Do you know what that means? Neville is eighteen!”

Neville smiled broadly and grabbed the microphone, “And so’s Harry!”

The crowd began to cheer and clap. Several people screamed out a “Happy Birthday, Harry!” or a “Happy Birthday, Nev!”

Severus’s heart pounded so that all he could hear was his own blood rushing through the vessels in his ears. The noise of the crowd was drowned out, even as Severus pushed his way through them.

Time was moving impossibly quick, and ridiculously slow all at once.

Severus stepped forward.

Harry smiled at him, finally finding him after searching for hours.

No, he’d been searching for months.

And he’d found him.

Severus wrapped his arms around Harry.

They kissed even as the crowd called out, cheering, whistling.

The clock chimed for the twelfth time as Harry pulled back and smiled up at Severus.

“Happy birthday, Harry.”


End file.
